


Never go on a date with a showman (aka: Raven's hobby)

by TheLSpacer



Category: Paul shapera - Fandom, Shaperaverse
Genre: (some), Attempt at Humor, Fluff, M/M, Raven is… Raven
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-19
Updated: 2020-07-19
Packaged: 2021-03-04 20:27:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,326
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25372384
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLSpacer/pseuds/TheLSpacer
Summary: Raven has a shirt that says “i think carnies should be able to vote” and every time he’s out in public some good samaritan stops him to make his day with the news that yes, in fact, they can, and he just loses it. complete fake-joy sobbing mess in the street. he thinks it’s the funniest thing in the world until Lloyd refuses to go out in public with him anymore (inspired bythis post.)Or,Raven has a bit he likes to do when he's out in public, especially when he's with easily-embarrassed companions.He thinks it's hilarious, but Lloyd is far less amused.
Relationships: Lloyd Allen/David 'Uncle Raven' Adams (Shaperaverse), Lloyd Allen/Raven | David Adams
Kudos: 7





	Never go on a date with a showman (aka: Raven's hobby)

**Author's Note:**

> Hello hi this whole fic was inspired by [this post](https://sevenrelics.tumblr.com/post/179840229287/taako-has-a-shirt-that-says-i-think-wizards).
> 
> I regret nothing (and neither does Raven).
> 
> Enjoy!

“Raven. Please. Don’t do this.”

Raven wrenched his hand away from Lloyd’s, and continued heading toward the door. Over his shoulder, he spat, “I’m doing it no matter what. And _nothing_ you can say will change my mind.”

Moving quickly, Lloyd darted past his boyfriend and stood in front of the door, blocking his path forward. 

“Ravey, if any of the years we spent together, if any of the things we endured to be together again had meant anything, _anything at all_ , you would listen to me when I tell you please, _please_ don’t. It’s not worth it.”

Raven eyed Lloyd’s pleading face, eyes meeting his in supplication. He was unswayed. 

“Lloyd, you know I love you, but this is too important. You can’t do anything to stop me.”

Lloyd slumped in defeat. 

“So be it,” he said coldly. He detached himself from the doorway, allowing Raven to step past. A brief silence ensued, before Raven proffered an elbow, which Lloyd, after a heavy pause, took. 

The two Posthumans left together, disappearing into a recently-opened doorway to another narrative.

* * *

The pair walking down the street of Victoriopolis, a city in a lovely steampunk narrative rather well known for its excellent carrot cake, would not have looked out of place, if it weren’t for the way one of them was dressed.

To be specific, the ‘one’ was wearing pins and badges all over the front and back of his jacket, declaring every variation of “Votes for Carnies!”, and “I think carnies should be allowed to vote!” and “Carnies demand votes!”.

The man wearing the bizarre accessories seemed completely content with the confusion it was sowing among those who caught a glimpse of its (numerous) message. He and his companion simply walked down the busy street, the man grinning and winking at people who stared too long in confusion. 

The man beside him, however, looked as if he would rather be anywhere else. 

His dour disposition did not last long. As the day progressed, and he grew accustomed to the stares his companion was attracting, he finally seemed to relax. 

The two men wandered through the streets of Victoriopolis, weaving in and out of quaint little shops, visiting a bakery and sharing a tray of sumptuous-looking sweet pastries, going on a carriage ride through the park, hand in hand, before taking tea in the park’s lush garden.

It was evening by the time it finally happened.

The streets of the fashion district were bustling with workers and members of high society alike, returning home after a long day’s work, or heading out for a night of fun as the sun set. The two men were doing the latter (in fact, they were going to see a performance at the local theatre), as they passed a young university student, balancing a chicken pie bought off a nearby street cart on an armful of hefty textbooks.

When they passed by the two, the student did a double take at the… interesting aesthetic choices of the one on the right, nearly dropping their pie in the process. A conflicted look passed over their goggle-clad face, and they opened their mouth as if to say something, only for a tiny squeak to come out instead. The men turned to look round, confused, before continuing on past the spluttering student.

It took a few more seconds for the student to muster up their courage, and doubling back, they ran to catch up to the two strangers.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Two heads turned around, regarding the student with piercing gazes.

The student hugged their books closer to their chest, cleared their throat, and addressed the dark-skinned man in purple, pins and buttons (’Carnie rights!’) flashing from the light of the street-lamps.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, sir, but, um.” They flushed beet-red. “I think… I mean I’m rather sure that, well, carnies are already allowed to vote?”

In that moment, time seemed to slow. The man had halted completely in his tracks, jerking his companion to a stop alongside him. His eyes widened, mouth parting slightly in a gasp.

His voice was soft and tremulous, but cut through the bustle of the street. “C-could you say that again. Please?”

“Um… Carnival employees are already allowed to vote?” The student stammered. They could tell the three of them were beginning to cause a scene, people turning around to witness the reason for the sudden stoppage in the flow of foot traffic.

The man didn’t seem to care, however. He brought his hands to his mouth, as tears began flowing freely down his cheek. The student took a few steps backward in alarm.

“Sir? Are you alright? I-“

Too late. The man’s quiet tears turned into full-on sobbing, and he lunged at the student, wrapping them in a crushing hug. The chicken pie fell with a splat on the pavement. Drat and blast.

“I can’t believe it,” he bawled. “After so many years, my dream’s become a reality! Oh thank you, thank you, _thank you_!”

The student’s rather muffled response, a muttered, “I think they’ve always been able to, the canvassing really wasn’t necessary” went unheard as the man, still hiccuping with joy, disentangled himself from them and turned toward his companion, busy insisting to bewildered passers-by that he was _in no way associated with that lunatic_.

Said ‘lunatic’ seemed to think otherwise, though, and he ran to his companion, sweeping him up and dipping him low, kissing him victoriously (the student had never witnessed a victorious kiss before, and in between lamenting the loss of their pie, was mentally taking notes).

“Did you hear that, my dear Lloyd? Carnies can _vote_ , now!” He said once they broke the kiss. His eyes were shining and his voice carried all the joy of a kid on their first Christmas.

Shutting his eyes tight, the other man growled, “Yes, it seems so. How wonderful, Ravey.”

“It’s everything we’ve ever hoped for, oh I can’t wait to tell the others!” He burst into happy tears again.

The other man, ashen-faced, dutifully let his companion cling to him, blubbering messily into numerous handkerchiefs he was seemingly pulling out of thin air. 

“Why. Don’t. We. Go. And. Tell. Them. Now?” He bit out.

The man, bright eyed and sniffling, turned to him. “Oh, _let’s_.”

As they made to walk off, the glowering man turned toward the student, who was attempting to retreat into the crowd of onlookers.

“Sorry about that,” he said shortly. “He’s… a showman.”

“Oh! Don’t worry about it!” They replied with false cheer. “I’ve met plenty like him in the Theatre department. He’s certainly got some flair.”

The man looked as if he had swallowed a lemon whole. “That he has, Mx, that he has.” 

Then, under his breath, “ThisiswhyIneverwanttogooutinpublicwithhim.”

“Come again?”

“Nothing, absolutely nothing. Just… be wary of theatre folk. You may think they’re just harmless eccentrics, but a good many are downright sadistic _monsters_.”

“I’ll… I’ll keep that in mind?”

“Do.”

And with that, the two disappeared in a cloud of smoke, leaving behind numerous flyers for a place called ‘Uncle Raven’s Super Happy Funtime Carnival!”

(They had also left behind a slightly cooled apple pie, tucked into the bag of one well-meaning student, unbeknownst to most, including the student themself, who would only find out long after they reached home. Showman though he was, Raven wasn’t a _complete_ monster.)

* * *

It was dark outside, and Han Mi was in the middle of a rather interesting book when Raven and Lloyd returned to the carnival.

She glanced briefly up at the both of them.

“How was your date?”

Raven answered “Absolutely wonderful,” just as Lloyd muttered, “Terrible. I’m never going out with him ever again.”

She cocked her head at the two men. The former was practically glowing, while the latter looked as if he sorely needed to stab something.

“Mmhmm, glad you enjoyed yourselves,” Han Mi hummed, and turned back to her book.

**Author's Note:**

> Eyyyy thanks for reading!! Let me know what you think hehe. Kudos and (especially) comments are always appreciated <3 Ily.


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